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With the help of the magic rings, they fend off the Ravebats raising further questions with Tasol and Myra about their mother.
“We need to get moving, I thought we’d traveled much further into the forest. We should eat as we look to find the trail.” As he finished, he turned, passing a piece of unleavened bread as he scanned the forest for the trail he’d lost the night before. He approached a fallen tree, leaping on top of the trunk, looking past it. “The trail. It continues here, on the other side of this fallen tree.” He turned back, offering a hand to Tasol to help him over the tree, and turned back to offer a hand to Myra.
“Thanks, but I’m good,” she said, pushing his hand away. “I don’t need your help.” Within a moment, she landed silently not the ground next to her brother. “Let’s get some distance between us and the whatever might be behind us.”
Daymel again took the lead, the path gently climbing uphill with each step. The woods were dense with deadwood, but the trail was clear and Daymel pressed them forward at a good pace. By midday, the forest started to thin and the twin peaks of the Silvermoon Mountains glared down at them from high above. They pressed on, their feet dragging from lack of sleep. That’s when the flakes starting drifting in the air, and up ahead in the dwindling daylight the pass could finally be seen. It was completely covered in snow and seemed impassable, a fact which would soon be verified by Daymel as he stepped close to Tasol, confirming it and speaking grimly.
“As I feared, it was a late winter. The snow holds fast on the pass late this year. But there is another way.”
Tasol knew immediately what Daymel spoke of, it was the Ward’s Way, an ancient pass through the belly of the mountain. One that was not meant to be used for folly, and had only recently been co-opted by the Snowmelters from Ward’s End. Between the ancient lore and the brutality of the Snowmelters, neither seemed particularly attractive, but it was the only way. The way that they had chosen. The only saving grace was they were a small part of three. Perhaps, using all that they learned from their father, they could sneak through undetected. Hopefully, Daymel was up to task. Tasol wasn’t certain about the dangers from the ancient lore, but the Snowmelters were a different story. The snow on the mountain was worth a fortune in water to those below, and they killed blindly to maintain that monopoly on the winter snows. The Snowmelters were the present danger, and they’d best avoid it at all costs.
“Do you believe the stories about the Melters?” Tasol asked, looking at Daymel.
Daymel gave a half-hearted laugh and looked back to them both equally uncertain as he rubbed his hand on his neck. “Do you?”
Myra just looked at them both with a concerned look on her face, holding her ring finger up as it glowed ever so slightly. “I do,” she said, motioning to Tasol’s ring hand, where his ring was glowing as well.
Tasol took a deep breath.“Things in this world are much different than I’d been led to believe in my little cave. And here I thought the world was about water, and now I see there is much more to it. Much that has been hidden from us. The sooner we get to Belidor at Ward’s End, the better.”
“Wait, you seek Belidor? You go to Ward’s End?” Daymel asked with a look of concern on his face. “He’s a madman, and Ward’s End. Well, that’s a place only for true cut throats. Not even the Jackrabbits will do much business there. What would ever drive you there?”
Tasol started to speak, but Myra interrupted him. “That’s none of your business. You know more than you should already, and we pray that you keep it private between old friends. We have business with Belidor that can’t wait, and we will just have to leave it at that. So it matters not what we three believe of Ward’s Way or the Melters. Under the mountain we must go.” Shen then motioned for Daymel to lead on.
“The lady has spoken,” Tasol said, covering the smile spreading across his face as Daymel turned, his mouth open wide. “Do you know how to find Ward’s Way?”
Turning to Tasol, Daymel gathering himself. “Yes. Well, at least I’ve seen the entrance before, but I’ve never ventured inside — it’s usually crawling with Melters and I haven’t been stupid enough too.”
“Well, I guess that ends today,” Tasol said.
“Enough talk. Let’s get moving.” Myra piped in as she pressed them forward, not exactly sure where they were going but ready to get out of the weather. She tightened her cloak, a cool breeze cutting through the air as they continued to climb. The snow had picked up noticeably, and they could barely see a half mile ahead with the sun setting for the day.
“Quickly now. It’s just ahead, but we need to find it before the sun sets. We are not prepared to spend the night out here in this,” Daymel said, now picking up the pace, a tone of concern marking his voice. They leaned forward into the winds, and progress slowed as they pressed on the dwindling light and snow with each step. Finally, they rounded the corner as Daymel pointed to a nondescript outcropping in the rocks. “The entrance to Ward’s Way is just beyond those rocks.”
“What are we waiting for?” Myra asked with steel in her eyes as she looked at the other two.
Tasol looked at her. He knew she’d heard the stories as well and part of him admired her fortitude, but he also knew she had a penchant for foolhardiness, and as the big brother he had to, at times, step in to be a voice of reason. But in this instance, even though he didn’t like it, he knew she was right, and he clenched his gut before he spoke the words. “Nothing, let’s go. We’re dead on Garren’s Path for sure, at least going through Ward’s Way we have a fighting chance and if we’re quiet and careful, maybe we pass through unnoticed, like the mouse.” They now both looked to Daymel, as if he had any say in the matter, which he didn’t.
Daymel just nodded. No words were needed. They were committed, and he stepped forward, leading the way to the entrance. Not even taking a few steps, the wind whipped up fiercely pushing them away is if protecting the path to the entrance. Tasol swore he could hear the beating of large wings above them as the wind forced them backwards momentarily, and they crouched to the ground as the windswept snow blew wildly in their faces, occluding their vision. As they huddled together on the ground, something from behind them caught their attention, and they all turned, drawing their weapons, uncertain if something approached or if the noise of the wind was playing tricks on them. It was difficult to make out anything in the blowing snow, which had increased significantly in the last few moments. Tasol fought against the wind rising to his feet and saw that Daymel and Myra followed suit, bows drawn taut with arrows.
A moment later, the snow stopped, and fifty yards away stood a lone female with dark ebony skin dressed in a billowing robe holding what looked to be a gnarled quarterstaff aloft emanating a curious wave of air that pressed forward toward them creating what seemed to be on orb keeping the winter storm at bay. Tasol and his crew held their ground, weapons drawn at the ready as the lone female stood her ground, but they soon learned she wasn’t alone. From behind her billowing robe stepped another figure. It was difficult to make out, nit whomever it was kept itself hidden deep inside its robes. Tasol looked upon the two newcomers, giving no sign that his side intended to relent. The hidden figure stepped to the side of the robed female as she continued to hold the winter storm’s fury at bay, and a scratchy voice of the robed figure spoke out.
“Are you Tasol? Tasol Jasper, son of Artus and Evra?”
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